cassie_wonder_120708
Dear Cassie,
Today you turned nine months old. I know I start these letters every month with a declaration that it is ridiculous that you are growing up so fast and that seriously? I can’t believe you are already X months old. But let’s put this one in perspective. Nine months ago today you were born. 18 months ago you were conceived. 19 months ago? You didn’t even exist as a pack of cells yet. Anyway you slice it, that’s all pretty amazing.
This month, you have learned not only to “cruise” around a room by holding onto the furniture for balance, but you’ve become a little mountain climber as well. You can’t quite climb onto the furniture but when you are there, there is no having you sit still. You will climb up people, over pillows, into the window, on top of the dogs, anything to reach your goal. And what, you may ask, is the goal? Usually just to smack the wall, turn around to make sure we all watched your achievement and then to climb up something else. Seriously.
You still go to see Miss Gwendolyn and GiGi every day and I suspect that being around GiGi is half of what makes you so determined to do everything right now, no not in a second NOW. She is three weeks older than you and will occasionally do something new like clap or bang or eat yogurt and then you just will not stop until you can do it too. Except you have to perfect it because, seriously? It’s hard work being so damn cute all the time. No excuse for not being awesome at it, I guess. I refuse to acknowledge that you could have inherited that trait from me. It’s not like Mommy has a problem with competition or anything, nope.
Yesterday, you taught Mommy an amazing thing: Never say Never. Up until this point in our life together, I could never have imagined why anyone would ever on purpose have more than one child. Seriously, I love you and all, but babies are a *lot * of work. You’re expensive, you come with eight million accessories, you whine a lot, you can’t really say what is wrong with you, you don’t speak English, you pull my hair, you make a mess, you bother my dog. It’s really like dealing with a New York City cab driver in a Barbie dream house.
Yesterday morning though, you were upstairs whining and I heard you over the monitor so I came to rescue you. As I came up the stairs I heard “Moooooooooooooooommmmmmmmm” which usually means you are hungry and you don’t really want me, you just want someone, anyone, to come get you and give you food already. I opened your bedroom door and you were sitting in the crib, tears streaming, and making all that noise. But you took one look at me, reached out your arms and grinned. First of all, you have never reached for me before. Then when I picked you up, you wrapped your arms around my neck, buried your head in my shoulder and mumbled “momomomomomomomomom” the whole way downstairs to the couch, where your bottle was. As I sat there feeding you and watching your little eyes drift off as you played with the collar of my shirt and peeked up into my eyes, I totally realized why people do this more than once. It’s for that moment, when your child learns that you aren’t just a source of food and dry diapers but of comfort, compassion and love and they not only accept these things from you, they give them back tenfold. And then I realized that I could totally do this all over again, given the right circumstances. And in case I wasn’t yet convinced, you further made your case a few hours later.
Last night, you saw your first snow. It was one of the most magical, happy moments of my time with you so far. I came in from picking up Aunt Jenna and the snow was coming down so hard and fast and sticking to the Christmas lights and the mailbox and the shrubs so I came in and bundled you in my arms and crept out front with you. At first, you were all about the magical lights everywhere but then, I pointed up towards the street lamp at the snow falling and your eyes got so big. You looked at me and then looked back and laughed with your face tilted back and your little hand reaching out to grab the snowflakes out of the sky. The look of wonder on your face as you took in the sight was so amazing, it just felt like the whole world stood still and you and I were all alone in a magic snow globe with Christmas music wafting over us.
It’s those moments, when my heart fills with more love than I ever dreamed I could have for another being, when I remember why I spent so many years wanting this, wanting you. It’s those moments when I see things, not as a cynical adult who knows how the world works but through your pure and innocent eyes when I don’t just believe, I know that there is a God. I wish more than anything that I could bottle that toothless grin and that amazing, musical laughter to keep with me when I need reminding of what I do all of this for. But luckily for me, I have you- my little snow angel- every single day. I just want to thank you for being such an amazing little person. I am so lucky to know you and I want you to remember, as you grow and change and eventually slam your bedroom door on me, that I am going to carry with me these memories and the faith that you have brought to my life.
I love you, Goblin. And I’ll never see another snowflake without smiling and thinking of you.
Love,
Mommy
